


And, like Midas, he made you into gold.

by Bulletprccf



Series: Lover. [1]
Category: Gundam 00
Genre: Gen, M/M, asexual characters., heavy discussion of past non-con., hurt/comfort., set 1 month after the end of season 1.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:35:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29936991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bulletprccf/pseuds/Bulletprccf
Summary: ( confess to me my sins. )⌜You touched a man so vain he starved himself to death.⌟( confess to me his sins. )⌜And, like Midas, he made you into gold.⌟( confess to me your sins. )⌜Therefore I will regenerate you in the water, and it will be forgotten in the sand.⌟
Relationships: Regene Regetta & Ribbons Almark, Ribbons Almark/Alejandro Corner -- past
Series: Lover. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2201643
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	And, like Midas, he made you into gold.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Raison d'état](https://archiveofourown.org/works/124203) by [Experimental](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Experimental/pseuds/Experimental). 



> this is dedicated to irysa.
> 
> this is a conversation to & from myself, inspired by the side manga "the second birthday" by kouga-sensei where hiling in particular is very touchy with livonze. we don't see that in season 2 at all.
> 
> i made some discoveries about myself while writing this, and i hope, like regene is reaching livonze, i will continue to reach myself.
> 
> this now has [beautiful art](https://twitter.com/xBulletprccf/status/1369480957095538692) by [@Bakaneko33](https://twitter.com/Bakaneko33k). thank you again so very much; no one has ever drawn art for my fic before!! i treasure this deeply.

“We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery, we need humanity; more than cleverness, we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost.” -- Charlie Chaplin

⇦ ◈ ⇨

“Ribbons, I’m back.”

Regene’s shoes click softly on the granite flooring as he descends the stairs in Ribbons’s usual haunt: the living room designed to be a copy of the space in Aeolia’s mansion on Earth. The large television at the opposite end of the gently curving depression remains off, but a barely audible whisper of sound comes from somewhere -- likely a small screen either in Ribbons’s hand or on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Regene folds his hands behind his back, pressing the heavy material of his trench coat against him. He’d just been meeting for the second time with a young lady called Louise Halevy, to ask her support in the changing world following the public destruction of Celestial Being, and it is winter in Spain. Regene thinks of the soft snow that had fallen as he and Louise had watched from the hospital window. He remembers how longingly the blonde-haired girl had looked at the frozen powder, lost in a reverie of a time not long ago. While her arm hadn’t been in pain, she had held on to her missing limb wistfully, pressing her forehead against the cold glass. It had been then that Regene realized how to gain a favor owed.

He looks forward to suggesting something amusing to Ribbons.

It takes that thought of his companion for Regene to realize that his announcement hasn’t received its usual acknowledgement. Before Ribbons had left to manipulate Alejandro Corner, he had always replied to all six of them whenever they addressed him, and it had almost been...warm. Hiling had always cuddled him as a greeting, whereas Revive would always toss out a casual wave. Bring and Devine would offer quiet, solemn hellos, with Devine being the more silent of the two. Anew, before she had been sent to Celestial Being as a spy, had smiled at not only him but everyone with every greeting, determined to pull everyone together with some kind of bond. And Regene...Regene would always speak to him when the others were busy, in both sincere and playful tones, and they would sit close together to discuss upcoming plans.

It had been easy to flock around Ribbons back then, easy to adore him. But since returning from Alejandro Corner a month ago, Ribbons had not touched anyone. And Regene had been very careful to not intrude on that boundary.

Perhaps Ribbons hadn’t truly been _acting_ addled by the human man. Since his demise, Ribbons had been quieter, even in private, where no humans could see.

Coming closer, Regene leans on the soft red velvet of the sofa where Ribbons sits. “Ribbons…?” Regene murmurs quietly next to him.

Ribbons starts, almost imperceptibly. His eyes widen just a fraction from their distracted stare at a data pad that he has long since stopped paying attention to. He turns his head just a bit too quickly. “ -- Regene.”

Regene’s expression softens, brows lowering and lips parting ever so slightly. “Hi, Ribbons.” His voice is quiet -- gentle. He’s learned about dealing with humans grieving with Louise. The difference here is that he actually cares. “Were you thinking about something?”

Amethyst eyes glance over at the data pad. “I was observing the military higher-ups of the Union. I want to know how they behave when they believe no one is watching.”

Regene puts his chin in his hands. “And what was your conclusion? You were so deep in thought.”

Ribbons closes his eyes. “All humans are the same, subjecting others to accidental voyeurism with no regard nor care. They frot on each other with no restraint. It is disgusting.”

“Good thing we _can’t_ frot. Humans are like animals, wanting sexual gratification for something that only makes more of them.” Regene grins, glancing at Ribbons, expecting to see a smirk in return.

He doesn’t.

Ribbons’s lips are pursed, and he looks mildly upset -- if a slight crease of brow is anything to go by. Regene’s smile quickly fades. “Ribbons?” he asks quietly. “What’s wrong? What do you keep thinking of that makes you so withdrawn?”

“I was told it was fun.” Ribbons’s voice is cold, devoid of any kind of feeling. His fingers lie flat on his knees, but Regene somehow thinks they should be curling.

“ _Fun_?” Regene sputters. “How can anything so pointless be _fun_? Floating in space with no helmet, just because we can -- _that’s_ fun. Poking a rumor about one human to see if another believes it -- _that’s_ fun. Observing Louise Halevy and Wang Liu Mei -- _that’s_ fun -- ”

“ -- You’re right.”

Regene abruptly pauses in his rant, looking -- really looking -- at Ribbons.

He isn’t looking back.

Regene pushes off of the couch and walks around to the front, standing near Ribbons but not brushing against even his clothes. “Ribbons.” His voice is soft, and his eyes watch his companion with a gentle kind of sincerity not often seen from him. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong -- ”

“Liar.” The word is spoken as a fact, without malice but also without any give. “Ever since Alejandro Corner’s death you’ve been quieter. You won’t let anyone get close to you. Every time humans are brought up you have this funny look.” He pauses, letting the words float for just a moment. “Are you grieving that human, Ribbons Almark?”

( _confess to me my sins._ )

Ribbons looks at Regene, but not at his eyes. A hole is bored into the belt at his waist: tassels of his coat tied in an intricate bow, with both tails at precisely the same length. Ribbons parts his lips after a long moment. “...His death was unfortunate, because he was amusing, but...no. It is better that he is dead.”

The words are not a lie. Regene cannot explain how he knows -- just that he believes his quiet companion. Carefully, he traces his way back through their conversation, back through their times together after Corner’s death.

Both Regene and Ribbons share their distaste for human sexual acts -- this has _always_ been true, and they are the two Innovators who feel this way: Hiling likes being _close_ to Ribbons but her mind never wanders further than that; Revive despises being touched at all; Bring and Devine are apathetic toward the entire thing; and Anew is curious, though of course her unique design will make her so.

However, Ribbons was so withdrawn when he instantly agreed with Regene, as if he wanted to _disagree_ instead. As if he had experienced those acts and enjoyed them in some way. 

Violet brow furrows. Those two things contradict each other, and neither explain why Ribbons _will not let anyone touch him_.

Ribbons said he was watching two of the A-Laws humans have an extreme public display, but the monitor was quiet when Regene walked in. The chartreuse’s thoughts clearly took him away during those, and he returned to the present only at Regene’s call. Given how quickly he replied to inquiries about Alejandro Corner, his mind was plausibly visiting a memory.

Regene’s frown deepens. That man is better off dead, but he had been _amusing_. Lips part, on the precipice of an epiphany, unsure how they will ever convince the Innovator to reveal the truth, but -- “He touched you. And you liked it. But you hate it now.”

⌜ _You touched a man so vain he starved himself to death._ ⌟

Eyes snap up to lock with his own, and Regene has the faintest feeling he might be slapped.

But instead he sees something new, something unusual: Ribbons is _vulnerable_. The vaguest inkling of fear lies hidden in those banked, lilac depths, as if expecting some catastrophe to occur. It feels wrong -- Regene has never known Ribbons to be anything except confident, ever the strong one, walking pointedly toward the changing world, guiding it with his careful vision. Now he looks as if Regene could ruin him with a single word. And Regene is certain that he is the only person who could possibly tell. He sinks to one knee in front of Ribbons, internally desperate for that _wrongness_ to dissipate.

It does not.

Ribbons keeps that gaze on him, completely impassive except for that sole shadow lurking in his visage.

“...Ribbons,” Regene murmurs, the name almost a whisper as it escapes. “Tell me what it is. Clearly my opinion is wrong, but it’s close to the truth. Tell me, so I can understand you again.”

( _confess to me his sins._ )

A ghost of a laugh bursts from Ribbons, as if in surprise. “ _You_ could never understand.”

Regene’s expression tightens. “I’ve been around the humans for quite a while, according to your orders. I know how they are. And...I know how _you_ were, before you went to play with Alejandro Corner. You’re...so cold now. You won’t let Hiling hug you anymore. You won’t -- ” ‘ _You won’t even let me sit beside you._ ’ “...Keeping problems from each other is something _humans_ do. We are _better_ than them. Talk to me, Ribbons. _Something is wrong_.”

“And what makes you _convinced_ something is wrong? That this is not simply just how I am now?”

“Because you’re looking at me like I could ruin something by knowing.” Regene’s answer is immediate, but his tone is the same as when he declared his accompaniment a liar -- soft, as usual, without malice, but assured in what he says.

“Your mischief has yet to _ruin_ anything I cannot fix.”

A sigh, quiet and resigned, escapes through Regene’s nose. Ribbons will not say -- will never freely admit to it being _wrong_. He is far too proud to even think he might not be fine. But...he replied to the direct question about grieving. It dawns that Ribbons typically replies to questions from the Innovators, as if seeking to satisfy their search for knowledge. Perhaps… “When he touched you, then, was it good? What’s it like…?”

Ribbons looks faintly surprised at the inquiry. “...For the first part. He used to worship me.”

Regene cants his head, unable to suppress his curiosity. “Worship you how?”

Slender fingers fold atop knees that finally cross -- a more familiar pose. “Paint over me. Impart platitudes into my very skin with his hands and his lips. It was...a fitting offering, for his declarations of _love_.”

Regene shifts to sit on his feet, leaning his arms on the sofa seat and putting his chin atop them. Looking up at Ribbons, he asks, “Did you like it?”

“Oh, yes.” Ribbons’s smirk is audible. “Innovators deserve to be worshipped.”

Regene hums. “He did it in private, right?”

“Obviously. I’d never allow such a thing in public. We are too beautiful for such things to be so easily observed.”

Claret irises watch the elder closely, with a mix of childlike wonder and clever intuition. “But he didn’t stop with worship…”

Ribbons’s expression closes. “No. And that is why it is better than he is dead and I am alive.”

“And that part?” Regene asks quietly. “What was that part like?”

Ribbons looks down at Regene, curled up at his side but not close enough to caution an accidental brush. “...Humans invade their fellow countries just as they invade their fellow bodies. In both instances something is lost, some discomfort is caused.”

Tracing an idle pattern on the soft red beneath him, Regene inquires, “What did you lose?”

Ribbons is silent.

Regene looks away. “...We lost you.”

⌜ _And, like Midas, he made you into gold._ ⌟

“...Whenever he touched me, the worship was promised, but also was the invasion.”

Violet head raises, meeting eyes that are far too tranquil for the current reminisce. “...That seems like any human pretending to gift their god, doesn’t it? In a lot of religions, they bring gifts, with the expectation that their god will give them something they want.”

“It does seem that way, doesn’t it?”

They fall quiet for a few moments, looking at each other. Regene cannot fathom what Ribbons is thinking, gazing at him quite that intently. Regene himself isn’t quite certain where his own thoughts go, but under such scrutiny he cannot help but study the figure opposite: eyes that no longer glitter with starlight in their amethyst depths, perfectly symmetrical chartreuse brows that soften the face upon which they rest, high cheekbones bisected by a perfectly straight nose, lips of the slightest of darker shades that press together in the smallest of frowns --

“ -- Regene.”

Regene starts. “Yes?”

“...A lock of your hair tends to fall behind your glasses when we’re alone. Does it not bother you?”

Garnet eyes blink. “It didn’t, until you pointed it out. I may need to cut my hair soon.” He raises a hand to brush his bangs away, but pauses -- noticing that Ribbons also has a hand raised, hovering inches away from him.

He looks conflicted.

Regene lets his arm fall, and scoots the slightest bit closer on the floor, stopping just short of Ribbons’s shoe. “...Do you want to try touching me?”

Ribbons parts lips, as if to speak, but appears uncertain as to what to say. His index finger twitches ever so slightly, like it wants to take the offer.

Folding his hands behind his back, Regene sits on his heels patiently. His eyes close --

And a soft touch moves his bangs. Careful tugs gather his curly locks together and tuck them behind his ear. He hears a slight noise of exasperation when he feels a few strands spring free, falling back to exactly where they started.

His lips quirk, and he opens his mouth to say something, but:

A finger presses against his lips.

His eyes open in surprise, to meet Ribbons’s, which are closer than they started.

Ribbons trails to the corner of his mouth, to his cheek, back to his ear. He plays with the purple there for a few moments longer, trying and failing to keep all of it tucked out of Regene’s face. Careful fingers eventually wander down his chin, to his throat. A warm palm presses to his jaw as Ribbons cups him experimentally. It has a strange feeling when coupled with icy fingertips. “...Regene, what do you gain from this?”

( _confess to me your sins._ )

Regene blinks and unconsciously cants his head to the side. He considers the question seriously for several moments while a cold thumb strokes his cheek. He doesn’t notice himself leaning into the touch. He does, however, note that he can’t quite come up with an answer.

They stay there for several minutes, Regene deep in thought and Ribbons giving guarded brushes to him at seemingly spontaneous intervals. Eventually Ribbons withdraws and leans back again.

“I think -- ” Regene’s voice wavers, just a tiny bit, hinging on his own pride at being the most independent of the Innovators. He does not _want_ to admit that he doesn’t feel right -- _hasn’t_ felt right -- with Ribbons as he is. “I think, if this helps, then...the answer is ‘Ribbons.’ We gain Ribbons back.”

⌜ _Therefore I will regenerate you in the water, and it will be forgotten in the sand._ ⌟

Ribbons looks at him -- another of those deep, scrutinizing gazes, as if he knows something Regene does not. “...Touch me,” he says quietly, “just once. Anywhere you please.”

“A-Anywhere?” Regene is confused.

“Yes. Anywhere.”

As Regene watches, Ribbons closes his eyes, with his face set in a frown that wishes to not be tense, but the angle of his shoulders gives it away. Regene himself spends just a moment in thought, and then he carefully places his hands on the sofa seating, using it to push up from his seat on the floor to his knees. Meticulously, with regard to not brush against Ribbons anywhere else, he leans forward, closes his eyes --

And kisses Ribbons Almark softly on the mouth.

He remains there for one second, two, three, before retreating. Sitting back on his feet, he looks again at his companion who, he now notes, is observing him impassively. However...he doesn’t look upset. He doesn’t even appear to be tense.

There is, though, an obvious question in his eyes.

“...It was the best way to explain,” Regene confesses. “I don’t know how else to say it.”

Ribbons touches his own lips briefly, before asking neutrally, “Do you love me, Regene?”

Regene opens his mouth with an immediate denial, but then he pauses. What does it mean to _love_ someone?

He has heard Louise Halevy lament her own relationship, and it had come with strong feelings of wishing to constantly _be_ with another person. It had seemed to cause her pain because she hadn’t been with that person. According to Ribbons, Alejandro Corner’s version of love had been to worship and then to take. It had also caused pain -- though Ribbons won’t admit it. Regene is not in pain, though it does _bother_ him that Ribbons is not the same.

However, the dictionary defines _love_ as _feeling strong affection for someone_. This part is obviously true, but it is true for all of them -- Hiling, Revive, Bring, Devine, Anew, and certainly Regene himself. All six of them had been intensely fond of the eldest of them, back before he had gone to play with that human.

Once again, Regene finds himself without an answer. “...I _miss_ you.” And that is the best reply he can manage.

With it, Ribbons seems to find the response he is searching for, because he checks the data pad on the table again for something. After reading quickly, he turns to Regene. “...Go and change, and then come back. We are going to have a meeting with a few of the politicians from the Union as they move forward from one of their ambassador’s deaths. They want to see how much his _personal assistant_ knows.”

Regene stands. “...‘We’? Shouldn’t they just be expecting _you_?”

“I have been attending their meetings with audio-only when I am here. They need not see this location is different than the Corner estate.” Ribbons glances over. “...I want you to be next to me during it. Observe the humans while I speak to them -- you’ve been around them, too, these days. We’ll need every detail when we convince them to form and support the A-Laws. You will...be at my side going forward, during these meetings.”

A smile spreads across his lips -- and he can _feel_ it: it’s far too sweet for him, probably looks weird -- but Regene doesn’t care. “I’ll be right back,” he says.

As he walks to his quarters, immensely pleased with himself for the progress made, he internally debates using hairpins or banking on the possibility that Ribbons will try to fix his hair again.

⇦ ◈ ⇨

**Author's Note:**

> this work is inspired by the line in experimental's "raison d'état" of "Because what could be more tyrannical and more savage than the invasion of another's body?" this line resonates with me, in a way i will not explain here but can be inferred with the conversation that livonze & regene have.


End file.
